Dark Memory
by Cysha
Summary: Eclair's thoughts during episode 10, Rebirth/Slave. I own nothing.


Dark/Memory

So many past lives. So many past mistakes. All the memories of her violent past sunk into her unconscious thoughts. Even in her dreams, she could not have a moment of peace, a moment of forgetfulness, to allow her to sleep. Each faded but powerful memory jarred and slashed at her defenseless mind. Even in her sleep, one thought was clear: her hands, that as a GOTT ES member, devoted to helping the good of the galaxy and its economic stability, had caused suffering and death to others. Some at fault, but some defenseless. The images tore up her mind, but through it all came the quiet and calm but powerful voice of that girl. That girl that taunted her. The girl that was her.

_You can't escape the mistakes of your past. _

She bolted up in her bed. Her fist slammed into the wall and she screeched. Screeched from the pain of the memories. Dripping into her head like the blood now dripping from her wounded fist.

"This can't be real. That monster isn't me."

_Monster? I'm the monster? What's the point? You are me._

"I'm not you. Even if I once was, I'm different now."

_Different? You call yourself different? You are me. You are the person that took without giving in return. But not just anything. You took life for your own gain._

"That's not true. That's not true. I would never do that. I'm not you. I would never take life without reason."

_Life without reason? Now you are too foolish to believe. No matter what the reason, a life is a life. You think killing someone is okay? Even for the proud GOTT? You may think you won't repeat those mistakes, but truly, you already have. Even in this life, you've taken life. Even for a mission to save others. You can't escape that easy._

"Go away. You're wrong. I just want to forget you."

_Forget me? Haven't you already tried that? Look where you turned out. Here you are talking with yourself. About mistakes you can never erase._

"YOU'RE NOT ME!"

Éclair punched the wall, again and again trying to shut out the voice and memories haunting her. But no matter how hard she punched, they all came rushing back.

Roaring flames. Her fist smashing powerfully into metal, destroying yet another cyborg as it exploded to bits behind her. Destroying things. Explosions behind her. Screeching, tearing metal. Blood. All at her hands. At her Power. At her command. Undeniably her. Éclair of the GOTT. Destruction for good. But all mistakes. How could one person handle so many lives taken at her command?

_You see? Can you deny that this was all you? Every piece of machinery, every city, every life? Gone with a smash of your fist? With a burst of your Power?_

"NO!"

She pounded the wall again. It wasn't doing her any good, and Lumiere would be worried when she saw her torn and beaten hands.

_Oh that's right. Our partner, Lumiere. If only she saw the blood on your hands. Oh no. Not __your __blood. __Their__ blood. The blood of the people you've killed. Oh that's right. Lumiere was there with you. She's already seen that blood, and she __hasn't__ forgotten. Look at the blood on your hands. Others can see it too._

"I've got to get out of this apartment. To closed up in here," Éclair said. Now trying to ignore the voice of her past, of her mistakes.

Despite the fresh air and cool breeze of early morning, Éclair's mood did not improve. The taunting voice and memories continued to haunt her, like a thick, creeping shadow. The greetings from the people she passed did not cheer her. She ignored the friendliness, lost in the turmoil of her breaking, wounded mind. She walked into the Flevr café. A favorite place of hers to get coffee and breakfast, Caprice's friendly voice and the fresh warmth of her coffee would always cheer her, but today, no such thing. Nothing would drown out the awful memories and taunting voice. No silence or peace today.

Tea and sedatives. Not something most people would recommend. But Éclair couldn't think of a better escape. She swallowed them with her tea; maybe it would quiet the din in her mind. Time passed. Éclair waited for silence. Instead, the drugs brought the opposite effect. They brought memories. More of them. Fresh, raw, and powerful.

Scorching hot suns. Different from the last vision of heat. There Éclair was. Roaring across the desert on a vehicle of some sort. Only slightly familiar. Enemy helicopters in the skies. Explosions from their machine guns ripped open the desert floor. She was unafraid. She narrowly but surely evaded the artillery. Ropes shot out of the vehicle, latching on to the helicopters. She ran up the ropes. Before long, the helicopters were disabled, ripping apart with explosions, instantly killing those inside. More deaths at her hands. Darkness, suddenly. Relief from the scorching heat of the three stars. This time she stood, in another body as usual beside Lumiere and…Eclipse. Chief Eclipse? What was the proud chief doing beside two ES members? Éclair found no answer, the voice in her head refused to explain anything. Now, Éclair looked out to see…troops. Hundreds of soldiers, waiting for her command. Once again, she stood in an unfamiliar body. Yet she knew it was her. Now, she stood in a dark, bleak prison cell. She sat balled up, no hope. In one final burst of energy, she ran to the door, begging to be released, pounding her hands bloody against the unforgiving concrete of the door.

The visions were bad. Painful. Sharp. But the next memory was the worst.

There she was. On the _La Muse_. She sat, with Lumiere in the chair beside hers. There, on the view screen, was a planet. Large. Green. Habited. Many families were down there. Living out their lives.

"Aren't you going to fire?" Lumiere asked calmly.

Silence. Then Éclair felt herself speak.

"No, I can't. Not of my own free will."

Éclair whipped out a gun and pointed it straight at her own ES partner.

"Hands in the air. Away from the console."

"It's no use…"

The planet's surface exploded. The green of the plants. The buildings. Every man woman and child there. Gone. With a blast of the Geo-sort bomb.

"NO!"

"It was set to fire before we left Aineias."

Éclair's eyes widened with horror. The GOTT had forced her to commit such a horrible crime.

Oddly enough, the next vision was strange, but oddly comforting compared to the horror of the other visions. She looked down, and she was holding an adorable child in her arms. She spoke to him gently. For a moment, she hoped the vision wouldn't end.

But then, the image was shattered into an image of herself. She lay on the ground, eyes wide and blank with death, blood staining her hair, her clothes and the ground around her. Her arms lay splayed, her hair falling around her, limp and wet. Her mouth lay open with horror.

She screamed. Loud enough, to seemly allow the vision to end.

She was sitting in her chair at the Flevr Café. Caprice walked over, meaning to comfort, but Éclair shoved her off. Somehow, she had to escape this nightmare.

As the day wore on, the torment continued. It seemed like there would be no escape, no solace from the memories and that ever-taunting voice of her past. She was called for a mission. Maybe it would get her mind off things. Maybe she would make another mistake.

Lumiere seemed to know something was wrong. In fact, she had a pretty good idea about what, after what happened the last mission. But she stayed silent. She didn't know if she could offer comfort to her sullen ES-partner.

Éclair stared down at her hand. She gasped out loud when she saw imagined blood dripping from her hands. Once again the thought came-_This can't be real- _but she knew all too well that what she had seen had been true.

_All of it is true. Don't forget. Unless…you want to repeat them again._

"No."

Lumiere looked concerned. Eclipse ignored it, but gave a sideways glance at Lumiere.

Explosions above the planet. The high-speed cruiser _La Muse_ entered orbit, to retrieve the other ES-teams ship, which was under attack. But Éclair had her own plans. In a daring moment, she left the _La Muse _and flew straight toward the enemy fighters. She wasn't going to repeat her mistakes. But she would prove to her past that she was more moral than them, even in the instance of taking a life.

"Die," she hissed, as she fired at the fighters. Explosions ripped the space around her to shreds. Silence. She floated in a limbo between life and death. There she confronted her past.

Someday, somehow, she would stop repeating her mistakes, and making new ones. Someday, she would regain all her memories and keep them. Somehow she would manage. Someday, she would wipe clean the blood from her hands.


End file.
